If it's Not Fun, You're Not Doing it Right
by D4cHilliN
Summary: And to think, it only took him a few years, a food fight and a blue haired, fiery, woman to show him what he'd been missing. V/B Oneshot.


_*Set in the Missing 3 years timeframe.*_

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**_If it's Not Fun, You're Not Doing it Right._**

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Inside the compound of Capsule Corporation, music drifted out of the kitchen as Bulma Briefs swayed and jiggled to it.

She was lost in the tunes, rocking her head to the beat, her long blue locks flying every which way. In front of her laid a large ball of dough she was using to make cookies. The kitchen was, simply, a mess. It was covered in flour, dough and other condiments she managed to spill. The apron she had on wasn't effective enough to keep her clothes clean. Large splotches stained her baggy blue sweats and white short sleeved T-shirt. Plastered against her hair and face were the powdery remains of the cookie dough.

So wrapped up in her own activities, molding the dough into cookie shapes, Bulma was completely oblivious of the short male who had just sauntered in, a questioning eyebrow raised and a deep scowl on his hard face.

He found the scene before him to be both amusing and pitiful. The music emitting loudly from the stereo on the counter mixed in with Bulma's off key singing and loud pounding has been the only reason he had chosen to investigate. Now, as he stared at her, he cursed himself silently. If anyone, he should have suspected that this woman was the cause of the disturbance.

He let the blue haired scientist continue her dancing as she slid the cookie sheet into the oven, afterwards wiping her sweat soaked brow with her forearm and then decided to speak up in his unmistakable gruff voice, "What _are_ you doing?"

Bulma squealed and spun around so quickly she almost fell over, locking her wide eyes on the man. "Jeez Vegeta," She sighed in relief when she recognized who it was, switching off the stereo. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

The saiyan prince snorted. "Nearly? Pity. I'll have to try harder next time." Bulma's face darkened but he kept going before she could interrupt."You didn't answer my question: What are you doing?"

Her face suddenly lit up in a smile. "Cooking."

He blinked, unsure he had heard correct. "What?"

"_COO-KING_. Well, technically, baking." She jerked her thumb to the stove. "Cookies."

The Apocalypse must have been nearing because, in all of his months living here, Vegeta had never saw and/or heard of the woman cooking. How ridiculous was that? After all, she had servants and workers to do that sort of thing and yes, that included her irritating mother. What in her right mind had cracked and told her to do something as menial as that?

'Why?"

Bulma was taken aback by the question and for a beat, she just stared. "Because I want to."

"You _want_ to do labor?"

It wasn't labor, she thought defensively. It was her only scapegoat at the moment. It let her disconnect herself from the world for a bit. From her hectic business, cheating boyfriend and constant fear of alien attacks. She had loved to bake ever since she was a little girl. Back then, it had been so much fun. So exhilarating. It must have sounded crazy to have such great memories with simply cooking but they were there. She remembered them like it was yesterday. Probably because, way back when, her and her parents use to cook together all the time. It use to be the only times when she had felt normal. The only times when she liked to believe she wasn't rich and had a _normal,_ regular family.

It had become sort of a pastime now though, what with her schedule. It seemed like she never had a chance to just stop and bake something.

Strange that she had gotten caught up in the very life she used to despise as a child.

Then again, she really didn't expect Vegeta to understand any of that. "I don't think of it as labor." She finally said. "It's a hobby of mines."

"Aren't hobbies typically something you do _well_?" He asked skeptically, scanning his eyes across the messy kitchen.

Bulma narrowed her eyes. "For your information, I _do_ cook well." Her arms motioned to the mess. "I just...got carried away."

"Carried away how? It looks like you literally just flung this gunk every which way."

Bulma laughed nervously. "Yeah well, I was thinking...about some things."

Vegeta's interest peaked. "About what?" He asked arms folding across his chest. Bulma couldn't help but feel subconscious under his gaze, especially looking as dirty as she did now.

"About...my childhood." Then, with a gigantic sigh, she blurted out, "Me and my parents use to bake cookies all the time. And we always use to have flour fights. Whoever got covered in the most flour had to eat the burnt cookie because of course, we always burnt one." Then she laughed, silently, to herself at the memory. It made her feel a yearning for that life once again. Or, if anything, a lounging just for that moment.

But Vegeta was baffled. His face was scrunched in disbelief. "You threw powder about because it reminded you of your childhood?" He shook his head, smirking. "Now if that isn't incredibly ridiculous, I don't know what is. I honestly don't understand you. Why do something knowing that you have hired hands that are _paid_ to do it?"

Bulma rolled her eyes, knowing that the man was just not good at comprehending reasoning that didn't mirror his own. "I didn't expect you to understand." She spat out. "It's not like you have any feelings any way, you big jerk."

Vegeta's smirk faded at that. His eyebrow twitched in anger and he narrowed his dark eyes. "Don't speak to me as if I'm inferior, woman because I don't take too kindly to that."

"You don't take KINDLY to anything." She huffed, cheeks puffing out. "I've been hospitable, nice, caring and all you EVER do is remind me how very _weak_ I am. Well, I'll have you know that I consider myself a pretty damn strong person to be able to deal with _you_ on a regular basis."

The widow peaked male was enraged that she would raise her voice in such a manner yet he couldn't get over the fact that her standing up for herself was attractive. And her fiery attitude was intriguing. She was, for now, the only human who had enough courage to stand up to him. And she was a _woman_ at that!

"Fair enough." He growled. "And I think I've been kind but it's just hard to do so because I'm living with a bitch like you."

Bulma gasped and Vegeta smirked, thinking, _I win. _Before she counter however, the timer went off and she padded across to the oven, grumbling to herself as she put on her mittens and retracted the cookie sheet, laying it carefully on the stove. By the time she scraped them all onto a big plate, her anger to his statement had pretty much dwindled down to nothing.

"Why are you in here anyway?" She spoke up, munching on one of her own creations. "Shouldn't you be training or shooting babies?"

He sneered at her sarcasm which she returned with a face. "If you must know, "He said, while walking over to her."I heard a big commotion in here which turned out to be you, bumbling about as if you were a gorilla. But now, as I've sat here listening to your incredible useless story, I've grown hungry." He took one of the cookies and sniffed it. "You can cook well, you say? I'll be the judge of that."

Although she tried to tell herself she wouldn't care what he thought, Bulma found herself holding her breath when he took a bite and chewed it meticulously.

He swallowed, smacked his lips noisily and glanced at her. "Not bad." He muttered reluctantly. And, when he saw her face lit up, he added, "For a weakling human, that is."

But she let that slide. "Thank you." She breathed in relief. "That means a lot to me, really."

Vegeta watched her statement and realized that it _did_ mean a lot to her. But why? "Did cooking in your childhood really impact you so greatly?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it impacted me _greatly_." No, she wouldn't _say_ it but it had. "It was just...a big part of it. It's one of those memories that you'd never trade. For anything."

"Heh. Lucky you."

"You don't have any memories like that?"

"No."

"Nothing at all? Come on, think hard."

"Hm. Well, once, I destroyed an entire village of peasants on the planet of Zorvich."

Bulma's face paled and she laughed nervously. "Oh ha ha...well...good job? But maybe you should think WAY back. Something that doesn't involve manslaughter, or homicide or anything negative."

"Impossible. My life is full of the negative."

"You never did anything fun?"

"Fun?" He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Bulma finished off her cookie, wiping her hands on her apron. "You know, fun. Like; playing tag or hanging with your friends."

There was a long silence. "Do you know who I am?" Vegeta finally asked with a confused expression.

"I can't believe you haven't done anything fun in your life!"

"Aside from being under Frieza's control, my _fun_ involved manslaughter, homicide and the negative."

Bulma let that sink in and for the first time, she saw Vegeta for what he truly was.

Someone who had lived years under a tyrant who loved blood lust. Someone who hadn't learned how to love because he had never received it himself. A man who had probably beat himself up over the loss of his entire race, knowing that, although he _was_ the Prince, he _still_ wasn't strong enough. A warrior who trained day and night to defeat the man, _his arch enemy_, who _had_ gotten to live freely, the man who _had_ gotten to find love and with that, had reached a level he couldn't.

Vegeta was a man robbed of his childhood who had never been given a chance to live his life the way he wanted to.

She didn't know she was crying until the widow peaked Saiyan's sharp voice cut through her thoughts, "Woman, are you crying!" He was both confused and disgusted.

Bulma quickly wiped them away and smiled shakily. "No, I'm fine. I think I got some powder in my eye or something."

He gave an unimpressed "Humph."

Then, spotting the bag of flour laying open near her, she moved to block his view of it while she tried her best to grab a handful of the slippery grains behind her back. "Oh Vegeta!" She suddenly exclaimed.

"What? What is it?"

"You have something on your face." She cooed. "Here I'll...get it!" Then, with a quick thrust, she threw the flour at him, causing a swirl of powder to circle the room. When it cleared, she was left with a clear view of his short frame covered completely in the white stuff. She saw his face and had to put a hand over to mouth to stifle her giggles.

He blew out a puff of air, causing a small misty circle of it to lift into the air and then turned to the blue haired genius with a death glare. A feral snarl sounded deep in his throat and his fist clenched threateningly.

Bulma, however, didn't seem to notice any of that. Finally, her resolve broke, and she doubled over in laughter, her face turning bright red.

The Saiyan prince blinked, unable to comprehend her reaction. Had she just _threw_ puffy white contents on him and _laughed_ about it? Who did she think she was? Oh, she was going to pay.

"You look like a white ferret!" She gasped out through her laughter, pointing at his face.

Was she insulting him now? Calling him an animal? "Woman, how DARE you-"

"Oh lighten up!" She breathed, straightening herself upwards. "I was just playing. Haha. I got you good though, huh?"

Vegeta wrinkled his brow in confusion. Got me _good_? "What...What are you talking about!"

Bulma turned to stare at him, a dazzlingly smile on her lips. "It was a joke!" She laughed, even more amused at his expression. "Jeez dude, you need to chill out."

Chill out? Vegeta shook his head in frustration, thinking about simply blowing her up to end her babbling.

"Hey Veggie, I got something that should loosen you up."

He shot his eyes to her, prepared to curse all kinds of obscenities at her for the dreaded nickname but instead, he came face to face with something wet and sticky. He growled, wiping the dripping liquid off of him to glower up at Bulma as she laughed her ass off, a bowl in her hands. The same bowl that had held the cake mix that was now on Vegeta's face.

He wanted to blast her. He wanted to murder her slowly and he might have, if he hadn't finally _depicted_ the look on her face. Her face, although dirty, was glowing and she looked beautiful. It was then that he realized that she wasn't laughing _at_ him but wanted to laugh _with_ him, motioning him towards her as if to say, _bring it on._

And we all know that the Prince of Saiyans never stood down a challenge.

He smirked, grabbed the first thing he could which happened to be a bottle of ketchup and shook it up. Bulma squealed, realizing his intentions, and darted to get a two liter of soda, shaking hers up as well.

Of course, she wasn't as fast as him.

He opened the top and squirted it all over her. She started to scream through her giggling, aimed the bottle at Vegeta and unscrewed the top. It drenched him from head to foot.

As they continued their food fight, Bulma couldn't help but feel blissful and joyous. Just like she use to feel when her and her parents fooled around like this. Although she'd have to clean it up, the 'afterwards' didn't bother her. She was content to just live in the here and now. And, the fact that she was actually feeling this way _because _of Vegeta, hadn't managed to get past her. She saw the way he was slowly getting into it and it made her feel good to do this. Not just for herself but for him too.

Because for the first time since she'd met him, he looked to be genuinely happy.

And he wasn't even killing anybody.

That knowledge gave her hope that, no matter how much he tired to deny it, there was hope for him yet.

At one point, while hiding behind a chair, a bottle of Olive oil in his hands, he called out, "Why are we doing this?" The tone of his voice was hurried and flushed as if he was out of breath but the smile on his face was unmistakable.

"Because it's fun!" She had called back, surprising him from the side, flinging icing at him.

Vegeta tried to get to his feet but his foot hit something slippery and wet and he went down hard. Bulma got up and was beginning to throw sprinkles on top of him but he struck out his hand, grabbed her leg, pulled and she went toppling over him.

The blue haired woman writhed and squealed, laughing hysterically, tears falling from her eyes while Vegeta chuckled.

Finally, they both came to lay there motionless, covered in all kinds of liquid and food, snickering quietly.

"That was fun." Bulma breathed. Vegeta smirked and pushed her off of him, causing her to go sliding into some gunk. "Gross!"

"That was childish." He said back.

She pouted. "Oh admit it, you had fun!"

"I had no such thing." He said stobbornly, rising to his knees. Buma crawled back over to him, grabbed him by his collar and, although he could have easily overpowered her, he let her pull him forward until their faces were inches apart.

"You're going to admit you had fun Shorty or I'm going to stab you in the eye."

"Charming."

She frowned and he rolled his eyes. "Fine. I had fun. Somewhat. It was entertaining. Happy now?" He mocked. And it was true. He hadn't felt this way since...well hell, he couldn't even recall a time he'd felt like this. And it was all _her _fault. Vegeta had never done something like this before. His actions had always had a _purpose. _To establish his power, to discipline someone for insolence, to rid the world of someone.

But, to just have a fight involving edible substances? It was dumb, it was unreasonable, it was...refreshing.

She smiled. "Actually, I'm _very_ happy."

Suddenly, his arms were around her and his eyes dilated black. "Good. You know what else is fun?"

She blinked and her face flushed, obviously bewildered by his new change of tone. "Uh, no. W-w-what is?"

Then he kissed her.

Even though their faces had been close and his expression had turned exotic, Bulma was still shocked when it happened. It took her a full minute to realize that his lips were pressed against hers. She instantly reacted, wrapping her arms around his neck while his hands roamed her back. Neither seemed to care about all the excess debris still lingering on them. They were intently focused on where their lips were meeting.

And when they parted, Bulma swore her head was spinning.

"Now that," She said breathlessly. "that was nice."

Vegeta scoffed and got to his feet effortlessly. "And here you thought I wasn't a fun man. "Then he left out without another word, smirking to himself as he climbed the steps, heading to take a shower.

Bulma was speechless, watching him go mutely. She could almost see the transparent way he had ended the conversation. Maybe it was something worth pursuing?

Bulma thought it was.

As she smiled to herself, playing back the recent scene in her mind, she felt something wet and icky hit her on top of her head with an audible _'Plop.'_

It was then when she looked up and noticed the different varieties of liquid on the ceiling. And then she saw the cake mix on the floor and the mustard on the fridge and the cracked eggs on the counter...

"VEGETA!" She screamed angrily, "YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LEAVE ME WITH THIS MESS!"

"It was your idea, woman!"

"UGH! BUT YOU PARTICIPATED!"

On the second floor, the water from the shower washing away all the stuff on him, pooling it at the bottom of the tub, Vegeta smirked, chuckling softly. In his mind's eye he saw it: Him going to help Bulma clean up but instead dragging her to the bedroom, stripping her clothes off and then...

His eyes opened, his smirk widened and he called back, "On second thought, I'll be right down!"

Oh yes, now this, _this_ was going to be fun.

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Review, yes? Because if you do, Santa will come to your house and give you one wish.

Th-t-t-t-t-t-t-That's all folks!


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